Across the Counter (13 page)

“No, of course not! I just didn’t somehow imagine them all being so
...
so happy about it.” Her voice shook slightly. “I love them, and
I
didn’t realize quite how much
I
was going to hurt them. It was stupid of me—but I thought, somehow, we could keep this thing within bounds. Now I see that’s impossible.”

“Charlotte’s going to be disappointed if we don’t go next week,” he said on a curiously obstinate note.

“I know. But if we go she’s going to be even more disappointed later. And it isn’t only Charlotte, of course. She’ll get over it. But they’re all so pleased and p-proud.” She bit her lip again. “
I
must have been crazy not to see where this was leading.”

“Where is it leading, Katherine?” he said softly. “Well, I’m
telling
you! They’re all planning happily on something that doesn’t exist. The kids are thrilled. Even father is gratified. And as for mother—mother’s feeling all the loving pride that mothers do feel when their daughters marry well and happily.”

Katherine actually wiped away an angry tear and rushed on before he could say anything.

“I suppose she’ll start telling people—why not? ‘Katherine is going to marry Paul Kendale—yes, Paul Kendale of Morringham. Such a nice fellow.’ Little does she know,” she added frankly. “And then, suddenly
—
ridiculously soon—it’s all over. Like a burst bubble,” Katherine said, without originality but with painful earnestness. “What are they going to feel like then?”

“Pretty grim, I imagine.”

“Exactly! And I shall have done it. In a horrid sort of way, I’ll have sacrificed my family’s feelings to
your
convenience. And there you sit
and smile about it
!”

“I haven’t been smiling for at least three minutes,” he countered mildly. “If you want the truth, I don’t like things any more than you do, Katherine. And if I had my way, all this that you’re describing wouldn’t happen at all.”

She turned and stared at him.

“What do you mean? It
has
to happen eventually.”

“No, it need not,” he said coolly. “Everything could be exactly as your family believes it to be. Only for that, of course, you
would really have to marry me.”

CHAPTER
SEVEN

There was a short
and ragged silence. Then Katherine said unsteadily, “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“You mean—you’re asking me to marry you? Really marry you, that is.”

“I am.”

“But why? I mean—you’re not in love with me or anything. You couldn’t be in so short a time.”

“People marry for other reasons,” he reminded her with a smile. “Even the most unworldly person will concede that.”

“Meaning that I’m unworldly, I suppose?”'

“No, darling,” he said, and she thought that was the first time he had used that term with her, either seriously or as part of the masquerade. “I find you infinitely less hard and sophisticated than most of the people with whom I have to associate. And now I’ve seen your family background I know why. Your scale of values is probably not mine, but you’re not unworldly in the naive sense of the word, In fact—” he flashed a quick smile full at her “—I’m sure you’ll agree that people sometimes marry for less than love.”

“Well, of course. But—” She hesitated for quite a long time. Then she said again,
“Why
do you want to marry me?”

“Because I think
I
could live very happily with you,” he retorted frankly. “You’re gentle and kind and civilized, which we, as a family, are not. I find it immensely attractive. I also see that you come from a background that means that you would always be unquestioningly
straight and fair. Not such a common thing in the world today, Katherine. And finally, although I hate to find myself in agreement with my father—
I
think it’s time I got married.”

“You could choose
...
someone else,” she said in a low voice.

“I don’t want anyone else,” was the cool reply. “
I
want you.” And drawing up the car at the side of the country road, he turned in his seat and looked at her in the fading evening light. “I don’t know why
I
should pretend otherwise—I
want
to marry you, Kate.”

“Don’t call me that,” she exclaimed sharply.

“Why not?”

“He
called me that—always,” she said before she cou
l
d stop herself.

“And you associate it with being let down?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that—it was Malcolm’s name for me.”

“All that is over,” he said quietly and, for him, almost gently. “Not only the romance of it, but t
h
e pain and humiliation and disappointment. There’s quite a different road opening, Katherine, if you will take it. If you will take me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly say—decide—now,” she exclaimed distractedly. “I don’t
...
know. I never thought of such a thing. You’re being much too impulsive from your own point of view too, you know.
You
haven’t had time to decide either.”

“I’ve had all the time
I
need.”

“Well, I haven’t.” She tried to sound like a common
-
sensical person refusing to be stampeded. But there was something almost pleading in her voice as she said, “I must have more time to think it over.”

“Of course. You don’t have to give a positive answer now—or tomorrow—or any specific time. I just want you to think of our engagement in a different light. It’s no longer a sort of expedient, to get me out of an
awkward fix. It’s the real thing—until you choose to say otherwise.”

“Oh, Paul, that’s not fair! It puts the onus of
...
of breaking it on me.”

“But—” he smiled at her “—if I don’t want it broken, isn’t the onus of breaking it on you anyway?”

“No! It’s not a real engagement, whatever you like to say.”

“To me it’s become completely real,” he said, still smiling. And bending forward, he kissed her lightly on her lips. “But the final decision rests with you.”

Then he restarted the car and they drove on—in silence, since he seemed to think everything had been said and Katherine could not find any words, either.

They were almost home when she spoke again. Then, rather to her own surprise, what she said was, “Paul,
were you ever engaged before?”

“No.”

“Not even unofficially? By
...
by implication, as it were.”

“If you’re thinking of my father’s insufferable planning and interference—no. I never agreed to any of it. Nor, so far as I know, did my conduct suggest I agreed.”

“Thank you.
I ... I
just wanted to be sure
I
wasn’t inflicting on someone else the same horrible experience I had myself.”

“I see. You’re a good child,” he said briefly. And then, somewhat unexpectedly, “Much too good for me, I suppose.”

“Oh, no!” She smiled faintly at last. “Stop polishing my halo. It makes me feel uncomfortable.”

That made him laugh, and they arrived back at the Fallodens’ house apparently in excellent spirits.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the store,” he said.

“But in rather different circumstances,” she reminded him quickly. “We must preserve some sort of business relationship.”

“
I won’t start kissing you on the main staircase, if that’s what you mean,” he said with a laugh.

She had meant a good deal more than that, of course. But she felt unable to enter into any further discussion. So she bade him good-night—accepting his light kiss for appearances’ sake, she told herself—and went into the house.

To her relief, neither Jane nor her mother showed undue curiosity about the day’s events. And in any case
—
what would there have been to tell them? From their point of view, nothing would have changed. They were not to know that the engagement that had excited their interest last night and that morning had only now threatened to become an actual fact.

Not that I would even consider making it real
, Katherine told herself in the privacy of her own room.
I wish I’d been more emphatic about that. I was still too much under the influence of the family’s approval. So was he, I daresay. Probably he’ll be quite relieved when he finds I have no intention of taking him seriously-

But although she repeated that to herself with emphasis she was not entirely convinced.
\

The next morning
she set out for the store with a good deal of secret trepidation, which she tried to conceal from Jane, who accompanied her. And when she entered the Separates Department—it was already renamed thus in her own mind—she guessed that she had a difficult day ahead of her.

At first she had little to contend with but the curious glances of the junior staff. But presently Aileen Lester arrived—a little late, as though challenging anyone to dispute her right to behave exactly as she liked—and Katherine was aware that the storm clouds entered with her.

She briefly returned Katherine’s “Good morning.” Then she addressed herself to her own affairs, and Katherine was left wondering when the storm would actually break.

It came with their morning coffee, which was usually brought to them in the small office behind the department. Katherine’s cup had just been set before her by an admiring junior who had ventured to breathe, “Congratulations, if
I
may say so, Miss Renner,” when Aileen came in carrying her coffee.

She shut the door with brisk finality behind the retreating
junior. Then she set down her cup and saucer and said in that cool, flat voice of hers, “I think
you and I are going to have to have a talk.”

“About the work?” inquired Katherine, stirring her coffee with an air of composure she was far from feeling.

“No, of course not. About Paul Kendale.”

“I don’t know that
I want to discuss Paul with you or anyone else,” Katherine said quietly. “One doesn’t discuss one’s
fiancé
, even with—”

“One’s
fiancé
!” The other girl repeated the term scornfully. “You needn’t pretend with me. Whoever else was deceived by that comedy, you and
I
know perfectly well that until his father started that announcement Paul had no more idea of marrying you than
...
than that little idiot who’s just brought in your coffee.”

“I’m sorry,” said Katherine coldly. “I’m not prepared to accept that statement, and you’re certainly in no position to make it.”

“I’m in a much better position to tell you about the Kendale family than you are to tell me,” retorted Aileen almost violently. “Why, a week ago you hardly knew they existed. I’ve known them all my life. And for the last three years
I
’
ve
been the girl Paul was to marry.”

Katherine looked at the pale, angry face opposite her and again found it in her heart to be sorry for Aileen Lester, however unlikable she might be, and however unscrupulously she might have bolstered up her hopes.

“Aileen,” she said, because it seemed ridiculous to go on calling her “Miss Lester” when the situation was stripped to the bone like this, “do you really think you’re making things easier for yourself by having this scene?”

“I’m not concerned with that.” The other girl brusquely swept aside the well-meant protest. “I’m not going to let you get away with such a barefaced bit of poaching for lack of a few plain words.”

Katherine resignedly accepted the fact that a great deal more than a few plain words were obviously going to be said before this interview was over, and speaking as calmly and authoritatively as she could, she said, “There’s no nice way of saying this, but—I did not take Paul away from you. And if you want my authority for saying that—he said so himself.”

“You mean you discussed me?”

“No. Not by name. But I once had the unhappy experience of having someone I loved fall for another girl.” She knew she was not being very wise to admit as much to anyone of Aileen’s type, but she could not let the unhappy girl feel entirely alone in her humiliation.

“I wanted to make
sure I wasn’t inflicting the sa
me sort of thing on someone else—”

Aileen gave a high, contemptuous little laugh, but Katherine went doggedly on.

“I asked Paul outright if there’d ever been anyone else, even by implication. And he said no.”

“Then he lied.”

“Aileen, I’m sorry. I’m not prepared to take your word against his.”

“Everyone in the family knew! Why, our fathers probably arranged it when we were kids.”

“Oh—that. He didn’t deny that his father had done a good deal of planning and interfering. What he maintained was that none of it was with his consent or with his wish.”

“What you’re trying to say is that I
wanted
him, but he didn’t want me.”

“What I’ve been trying to do is to save a few remnants of your pride by not putting that into words,” returned Katherine a little impatiently at last. “I’m simply loathing this conversation, and you can’t be liking it, either. Can’t we possibly take the rest as said? I’m truly sorry if you happen to want the man who wants to marry me—”

“He does not want to marry you.”

“He does, you know,” said Katherine, strangely fortified by that conversation in the car.

“He si
m
ply put on that grand pretense because he thought—” She paused and bit her lip. Perhaps even she hesitated befo
r
e admitting that she knew about old Mr. Kendale’s presumptuous ruse.

“We’re simply going around in circles.” Katherine stood up with an air of bringing this painful scene to an end, though she found that her knees were by no means steady. “I would far rather not have had all this said, and
I
can’t think that you feel any better for having said it. But now there’s really no point in continuing the discussion.”

“You mea
n
you’re going on with this engagement?”

“Certainly I’m going on with it,” said Katherine coolly, though she had a queer, superstitious feeling that in saying this so positively she was committing herself to more than she really intended.

“You’d be much wiser not to.” Aileen spoke with a deliberation that robbed her melodramatic words of their absurdity. “My father and I wield quite a lot of power in this town, you know.”

“Are you threatening me?” asked Katherine coldly and incredulously.

“Not only you. The Kendales, too,” said Aileen. Then she turned on her heel and went out of the room.

For a few minutes after the other girl had gone, Katherine stood there leaning her hands upon the desk. She was, she found, trembling quite violently. Not from any real alarm over Aileen’s threats, but in sheer reaction to a dreadfully unpleasant scene.

Presently she sat down again. For since Aileen had chosen to go, there was now to reason why Katherine should pretend to have business elsewhere. Indeed, her courage failed even at the thought of walking through the department where presumably Aileen now was.

“It’s an impossible situation,” she muttered. “I’m sorry now that
I
ever encouraged her to remain here. Of course, it’s only for a few weeks
—all
this is only for a few weeks—but—”

At that moment the telephone rang beside her and as she lifted the receiver she heard Paul’s voice say, “May I speak to Miss Renner, please?”